Ballads of Peace in War

<h2> THE STORYTELLER </h2> <p>Tim of the Tales they call me,<br/> With a welcome heart and hand;<br/> But little they hold my brother<br/> For all his cattle and land.<br/> <br/> If I be walking the high road<br/> From Clare that goes to the sea,<br/> A troop of the young run leaping<br/> To gather a story from me.<br/> <br/> Tim of the Tales, the folk say,<br/> Is known the world around,<br/> For children by taking his stories<br/> To their homes in foreign ground.<br/> <br/> I pity my brother his fortunes,<br/> And how he sits alone,<br/> With the money that keeps his body,<br/> But leaves his heart a stone.<br/> <br/> And sometimes do I be feeling<br/> A dream of death in my ear,<br/> And a heaven of children calling,<br/> "Tim of the Tales is here."<br/></p> <p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"></SPAN></p> <br/> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />